Forgive And Forget
by happyday girl
Summary: Set in season 2. Sam and Dean take a case where a family have been having spirit troubles. The house used to be owned by their old Baby-sitters; people Sam can't remember, a time pushed out of his mind. Why? Hurt!Sam, Protective!Dean. Please R
1. Chapter 1

**This story has been on my computer for a while, but once I read it I realised I needed to re-write it, so I hope you enjoy this version!**

Dean watched Sam sleep in the bed across the room from him, moonlight shining on his calm features.

This was the first time in a long time that Dean had seen his little brother sleep peacefully; normally he was thrashing and groaning, the nightmares plaguing his body.

He watched Sam snore lightly for a few more moments, then with a chuckle he got out of his own bed and made his way to the living area of their motel room, this room was actually of better quality than their last few, and Dean was relieved to have somewhere decent to sleep for once.

He settled down on a wooden chair and flicked on the TV, clicking all the channels but finding nothing to watch.

With a sigh he turned it off again, and then looked back at his brother; he hadn't moved, when that man slept properly, he could sleep through an earthquake, Dean though wryly.

He suddenly heard his phone go off, the loud ringtone bursting into the silent room. He leapt up and darted to his bag, pulling it free and answering it before he even read the caller ID.

'Shh- oh, hi Bobby. No, I wasn't talking to you I was talking to the ph-never mind...now? No, it's not a problem...sure...yeah ok, we'll be there ASAP...ok, bye' he signed off, groaning as he looked across at his slumbering brother.

He really didn't want to do this, but Bobby seemed really urgent-anyway, Sammy could sleep in the car.

'Hey...dude...Sammy!' he said softly, gently shaking his brother's shoulder. Sam's eyelids flickered, but he didn't wake.

'Sam!' Dean said sharply, giving him one hard shake-this did the trick, as Sam woke with a small gasp, looking around for danger. As soon as his eyes fell on Dean, they rolled and he frowned.

'Why'd you wake me up?' he grumbled, turning over with a groan.

'Come on dude...Bobby wants us to come to his place...let's go!' Dean said, ripping Sam's blanket off him and throwing it on the floor.

Sam moaned and got up, rubbing his hair.

'Why?' he said, sleep still apparent in his voice.

'No idea...come on...let's go!' said Dean, getting a little impatient.

'Oh alright! 'Growled Sam, and he pushed off to the bathroom to wash.

'Leaving in five!' Dean yelled over the tap water.

Sam chuckled and he started brushing his teeth, getting ready for the day ahead.

* * *

'Hey boys- glad you could get hear so quickly!' Bobby Singer welcomed the brother's into his home, before bustling off to the kitchen to make coffee. After he had finished, he took the mugs and made his way to the living room, where the boys were sitting on the couch, Dean, looking refreshed and chirpy, Sam tired and lethargic.

'You ok Sam?' Bobby frowned as he passed the youngest Winchester his mug.

Sam smiled at him and blinked a few times. 'Yeah, just tired.'

'- he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!'Dean butted in.

'Ah, ok-anyways, I called you hear to see if you would take a case for me, I'm just too busy to do it myself' he said.

The boys leaned forwards, 'ok, so what's happening?' asked Sam.

'Well, do you remember the Smith's? Judy and Edgar Smith?' said Bobby, watching as Sam shook his head.

'Oh wait! I remember the Smiths... they were our old babysitters!' said Dean, thumping Sam on the thigh. Sam looked at his brother, a confused look on his face.

'What? I don't remember, who are they?' he asked, looking from Dean to Bobby.

'Ahhhh come on, you have to remember...you where what? Six, seven? You gotta remember things from that age!' said Dean, incredulous. He shook his head as Sam shrugged, before turning back to Bobby.

'Anyhow...the smith's? What's up with them?'

'Well, it's got nothing to do with them, per se, but the troubles in their old house. See, the Smith's died a few years back, Judy of a stroke, and Edgar of heart failure. Anyway, since then the new occupants have reported hearing crying coming from the house, little things as well; like knocks and bangs-nothing too violent, but the new family have little kids, and it's starting to scare 'em.'

'So what your saying is we've got a spirit on our hands?' asked Dean, interested.

'Yahtzee, now, you guy's want it?' asked Bobby.

'Yeah, sure' said Dean at once, but Sam was slower to agree.

'Ok, how far?'

'About eighty miles, so not too far' said Bobby.

'Ok Sasquatch lets go!' smiled Dean, already heading for the door.

Sam nodded his thanks to Bobby, and then followed him out.

As his brother started the Impala, Sam had a strange sense of foreboding that he couldn't quite fathom out, like this hunt was just too cut and dry...and how come he couldn't remember their old baby-sitters, when Dean quite obviously could?

As they sped alone the highway, en route to the Smith's house, Sam hoped the answers wouldn't be too far away.

**I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you thought of the beginning!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

The Impala rumbled down the highway, AC/DC's 'Back in Black' blasting through the interior, making Sam's seat vibrate with the drum beat. Sam had long got used to Dean's inability to hear music unless it was on the highest decibel level he could find; he would bet anything that his brother's eardrums had been liquefied long ago, and they were just husks that he could somehow hear through.

All of a sudden, the loud music was turned off, and in the abrupt silence that followed, Sam watched his brother as he turned to him.

'So you can't remember the Smith's?' he stated. It sounded more like a rhetorical question than a normal question, so Sam said nothing.

'Hey! I was asking you a question' Dean said, chuckling, but slight concern was showing in his eyes.

'Well, no. But it's no big deal Dean, plenty of people can't remember certain aspects of their childhood, I'm guessing as soon as we get there I'll remember everything!' he reassured his brother, trying to quell the slight panic fluttering in his own chest.

Why couldn't he remember the Smiths? He remembered things from earlier than that, stuff when he was six or seven, so why couldn't he remember this?

'Well, that's alright then!' Dean's deep voice cut through his tide of thought, and he jumped slightly as Dean turned the music back to 'deafening' again, and the seats of the car once again started to vibrate.

It was nearing nightfall by the time the boys approached the Smith's grand looking, white painted house, with its neat little garden that ignited a flurry of nostalgia for Dean, as he looked around, spotting things from their childhood.

There was that bench that Sam had actually fallen over-oh, and there was the tree that they both had got stuck in whilst hunting for conkers and birds eggs.

Sam, however, regarded the home with a blank memory. He couldn't remember a thing.

'Remember this now?' Dean prodded his little brother's shoulder, still smiling as he remembered Sam crying when Dean said he wouldn't get down from the tree till the next morning. God it was good being a big brother then!

'I-no. No I don't.' There was no point sugar coating it, Sam couldn't remember at all.

'Maybe I'll remember the house.' He smiled weakly, before crossing the lawn to get to the huge red front door.

Before Dean followed him, he walked to the other side of the huge oak tree, and chuckled when he saw the small wooden ladder that was nailed to the tree. He failed to tell Sammy that when they were stuck, but Dean did tell him later-Sam wouldn't speak to him for hours!

'Dude- are you coming?' Sam called, and Dean jumped, as if he was spying on something rude.

'Uh, yeah...coming!' he replied, casting a last fond look at the tree, before following Sam to the door.

* * *

Sam knocked on the hard wood three times, and they waited for a response.

A few seconds later, there was the sound of heels on stone, and the door opened to reveal a woman of about thirty, with curly red hair and a dazzling smile.

'Can I help you?' she said, looking from one brother to the other. Geez they looked familiar.

'Sarah? Oh wow is that you?' Dean gasped, looking her over to make sure he had got the right person.

'Yeah! And you're...Dean Winchester!' Sarah grinned, before turning to Sam.

'So this makes you little Sammy! Oh my god it's been years!' she said, throwing herself into Sam's arms.

Sam hugged her tightly, smiling; but inside he had no idea who the woman hugging the life out of him was.

After Sarah released Sam she threw her arms around Dean, and he was obviously more forth-coming, he laughed like he was meeting an old friend and even twirled her around for a bit.

'Well what brings you back here?' she gasped, patting her hair to make it stay in position.

'Well, Bobby singer said you had a spirit problem, but he couldn't make it, so we thought we would!' Dean grinned.

'That's fantastic, we can have a proper catch up now!' she squealed, clapping her hands, and she opened the door further to let the brother's in.

Sam followed duly behind Dean, who practically bounded into the house like a little jack-rabbit.

He closed the door behind them, and began looking around to find something to jog his memory of the place.

Nothing particularly jumped out of him, until he looked at the wall, and saw a quaint family portrait hanging on it.

It was done professionally, Sam could see; they were sat in family order, oldest to youngest, and he could see two children, and two adults.

As soon as his eyes fell on the male of the house, Sam stiffened, he breath completely leaving his body for a second.

Those eyes...

He felt a shiver run up his spine, but he didn't know why, couldn't explain it. The man's eyes were a deep green, sparkling with happiness as he looked down at his brood.

For a spilt second, Sam forgot to breathe.

'Sammy? Are you ok?' Dean walked to his brother's side, and he too looked at the portrait.

'Those are the Smith's!' he said, pointing at the man and woman looking down fondly at their children.

'Why is there a self portrait of them, here-now?' Sam whispered, not quite sure why he was whispering.

Dean regarded his brother with concern, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'Sarah's their daughter Sam. she's over there' he said, once again pointing at the picture; this time at a young red-headed girl with a gap-toothed smile.

'she owns the house now, so she wants the pictures up I guess' he mused, still looking at Sam, slight panic rising as he saw his brother's pale face, his eyebrows creasing in a frown.

'Are you sure your ok?'

'What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine...let's go talk to Sarah' Sam smiled, motioning for Dean to lead the way. He did, a frown now plastered on his own face.

Before he followed, Sam cast a last look at the picture, of Edgar Smith, and a dark feeling spread over his body, enveloping his heart. He couldn't explain it, but there was something about that man that he just didn't like. How come he couldn't remember him?

'Sam, are you coming or what?' Dean called again, the frown now turned up to eleven, the crease between his eyes deepening.

'Yeah, coming!' Sam called back.

**Will Sam get his memory back, and what is the connection to Edgar Smith? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thank you for reading, and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

Later that night, as Sam and Dean made their way upstairs to get ready for the hunt; Sam continued to look around for other things to cast his mind back.

Dean had convinced Sarah to leave the house for a few days, so they could get on with their work properly.

Sarah had been only too happy to leave, saying that she didn't want the kids to be upset anymore. Sam hadn't actually seen her children yet, but he guessed they were just shy.

As he turned the corridor that lead to their rooms, he caught sight of his room and stopped dead.

'Dude? You ok?' asked Dean, coming to a standstill next to him, but Sam didn't answer.

Instead, he just stood there shaking slightly, all colour draining out of his face as he looked at the shut door.

'Sam!' Dean shook his brother, and Sam seemed to snap out of his reverie.

'Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine...lets start this already' he said, moving aside to let Dean enter the room first.

Dean shrugged and opened the door, walking through it with ease. Sam however, took longer.

He couldn't explain it, but the moment he set eyes on the door, a deepening feeling of immediate dread had taken hold of his body, taking his breathe away.

'Sammy?' Dean's voice was softer; he walked back to his brother and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Something was wrong with his brother. Very wrong.

'What's up?' he asked, but Sam didn't answer.

Dean sighed and made to pull Sam through the door, but Sam stood stock-still, his body like a dead weight, not willing to be moved.

'Uhh-can we stay in another room? I don't want to sleep in here' his voice sounded almost child-like as he looked at Dean, eyes begging to be listened to.

'What? Why?' asked Dean, completely thrown by this question, leaving his brother to look at him in concern.

'Uhh...it's just...it doesn't feel right...I've got a bad feeling about the room-I can't explain it. Please can we sleep somewhere else?' he asked, looking wistfully at Dean, who rolled his eyes, before rubbing Sam's arm comfortingly.

'Ok Sammy...Stay here and I'll go ask Sarah if there's somewhere else we can sleep' he said, before patting Sam's back and bounding back down the stairs.

Sam was sorely tempted to follow him; he really didn't want to be alone by this room.

After a few minutes of being alone, he suddenly felt like he wasn't alone after all...

Coming down the wall next to him suddenly came the sounds of loud knocking, like footsteps or someone pounding their fists on the wall.

Sam whirled round, but he couldn't see anything. He reached into his pocket and took out his EMF Meter, scanning the corridor, being careful not to go too near the bedroom.

The meter was silent for a few minutes, until he put it a little further up the corridor; it then crackled and the high pitched sound rang out through the silence.

'Dean! I think we've got something!' he called down the stairs.

Dean popped his head up the stairs, and then walked up the stairs to stand next to his brother.

'Sarah says we can have the next room' he whispered, but Sam cut across him.

'That doesn't matter right now-we've got something here' he said, motioning the detector.

Dean frowned at the meter- 'whoa, that's not meant to happen-ghosts usually come out at night! I've never known one to come out during the day!' he gasped.

Before Sam could reply, the boys jumped as they heard crying. Soft, child-like crying, coming from just ahead of them.

'Please...stop!...I'm sorry!' came the voice. They could tell it was now a young boy, but there was no figure to accompany the voice.

'Don't hurt me again...I won't say it again-please!' came the high voice, this time a sob ended the words, and there was more crying.

'What the hell?' said Dean, anger coursing through his veins. Who the hell could make a kid cry like that?

Sam, however, felt like his heart had been ripped out and torn to pieces.

Hearing that voice, witnessing those screams, everything came back to him.

He choked out a sob as he grabbed Dean's arm.

'Sammy-what's wrong?'

'Listen...just listen to it...' he gasped, sinking to the floor.

Before Dean could listen for more, there was a whoosh of dispersed air, and a small figure appeared before them.

It was a boy of no more than seven or eight, taller than most, with a mop of light hair falling over his face.

His eyes were full of fear, the brown pupils swimming with tears.

'Oh my god...it can't be possible...'he gasped, looking down at Sam, then back up to the child in front of them.

'Please! Help me...Stop him...DEAN! -HELP ME DEAN!' the boy yelled at the top of his voice.

'Dean...' Sam choked out, voice cracking with emotion, a tear working his way down his face.

'...it's me'.

**Bet you didn't see that coming!**

**How is this possible? Find out in the next chapter!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you think of this chapter!**

**Thank you for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Sam choked out a sob, watching as the younger version of himself continued to wail and cry. He remembered everything now, the images tearing into his skull like lightning flashes, words and screams echoing through his mind, the dull thud of something else ricocheting through his brain.

Dean watched, wide-eyed with utter shock at the younger Sam, crying out to something he couldn't see, looking around in fear of something he didn't know. How was this possible?

'Dean! Please...make him stop!' yelped little Sam, looking around, a lost and dejected look masking his face.

Dean didn't know what to do. This wasn't real...Sam's not dead...it's not real.

'Sammy?' Dean whispered, addressing the little boy in front of him, seeing if he could interact with the boy in front of him. 'it's ok Sammy...I'm here...' he whispered, holding out a hand, but little Sam didn't seem to understand; he disappeared with a final cry, a white light surrounding him, until he was gone.

Sam, who had been curled around Dean's feet, let out a cry of his own, tears leaking down his face as he looked up at his older brother.

Dean gulped back his own emotion, bent and hauled Sam to his feet, putting an arm around him.

'C'mon Sammy...let's go in the room...that's it' he encouraged as Sam started to move towards the bedroom Sarah said they could use.

Sam just walked forwards, mind elsewhere, quite happy to let Dean lead. He sank onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

Dean sat next to him, silent, before he put an arm around his shaking brother and pulled him close.

Sam rested his head on Dean's shoulder, quite sobs running through his body.

'Sam- I don't understand...what was all that about?' Dean asked, looking down in Sam's hair in a panic.

'I-it was so long ago...I must've pushed it out...' Sam choked out.

'Pushed what out?' asked Dean, manoeuvring his brother so he could see his face.

'-just-I don't want to talk about it...just leave it' he said, quietly, eyes full of tears.

Dean shook his head firmly 'oh no. You're not pulling that on me! Please tell me!' he said, shaking Sam firmly.

'What happened to you?'

Sam shook his head, as if going through memories, then trying to push them out.

'Sam...Please-let me help-'

'You didn't help then!' Sam snapped, then his face suddenly took on a look of shock, while Dean felt like his heart had been crushed.

'No! No...I didn't mean that...I'm so sorry!' Sam apologised, before more tears fell down his cheeks.

'Hey...you don't need to say sorry-just, please...tell me what happened.' Dean said, pulling him close again and rocking him gently, something he used to do when he was a kid.

What had happened? And why wasn't he there to help him?

...

_Sam Winchester woke up bright and early, the morning sun blaring from the sun, shining on the little boys' face, making him squint and smile. He got dressed in super-fast time, patting his untidy mop of hair down to make it look good._

_He then bounded to Dean's room, and gave a shouty little giggle when he saw Dean was still asleep._

_He crept up on his slumbering sibling, and with a lion-like roar he took a run from the door and jumped on Dean, screeching with delight as Dean pretended to yell out in pain, then proceeded to tickle him under the arms and around the ribs._

'_What's going on here then?' A booming, deep voice punctuated the boy's fun, making them stop dead._

'_Nothing Mr Smith-we was just playing!' Sam's little-boy lisp answered him, a trace of a giggle still on his face._

'_Not this early your not!' Edgar Smith roared, his black moustache quivering in anger._

'_Go in your room, I'll come see you in a minute young man!' he ordered._

_Sam gave a frightened look to his brother, who shrugged and smiled at him. Mr smith wouldn't tell him off too bad, he was a nice man._

_Sam gave his brother a trusting smile and trotted back off to his own room. As he walked, he could here Mr Smith talking to Dean, asking him if he had a good nights sleep. He started laughing, which Sam took as a good sign that he wouldn't get told off too bad, then he would go down to breakfast like normal._

_He went and sat on the edge of his neat bed, and just waited for him to arrive._

_A few minutes later, he did, coming in through the door with a strange expression on his face._

_He stood a little way away from Sam, and motioned with his finger for him to come closer._

_Sam did, not thinking anything of it, 'I'm really sorry Mr Smith; I didn't mean t-'his voice was cut short by a slap to the side of his face, sending him careering sideways. He hit the floor with a sob, and clutched his face with a small hand. _

_He started to cry, but Edgar bent to his level, and pulled him up by the lapel of his shirt._

'_Yeah go on...go cry to Dean- he can't help you, he's gone down to breakfast!' he sneered, before pushing Sam back down onto the floor._

_Sam whimpered his face stinging from the slap. He didn't understand what had just happened; he just wanted to be away from Mr Smith._

'_Can I go down to breakfast too?' he asked meekly, one small hand still pressed to his face._

'_No...I don't think you can- you can stay up here, seeing as you've been a really bad boy- but I warn you...' he added darkly, bringing his face closer to Sam's the latter shying away, fear in his young eyes._

'_...if you tell a living soul what just happened, I'll hurt Dean...worse than I hurt you...I'll hurt him so bad he wont wake up!' he said, spittle flying into Sam's face._

'_No...Not Dean...'he whimpered._

'_Then you don't tell anyone!' the man said sharply, before he turned to walk out the door._

'_I'll call you when you come down-and remember...this is our secret!' he winked at the young boy and walked through the door, closing it with a snap._

_Leaving a seven year old Sam Winchester shaking in fear and pain, not understanding anything that had just happened._

**Poor Sam! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, next one- Dean's reaction.**

**There will also be more flashbacks in later chapters too.**

**Please read and review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Dean continued to hold his brother close, rocking him back and forth, just holding him while he cried. He felt tears of his own falling down his face, but now was the time to be strong, to help Sammy through this.

His heart felt like it had been split into a million pieces, the bits scattered around like leaves in an autumn breeze.

He couldn't believe what he had just heard, he wouldn't.

He had trusted Edgar Smith, trusted him with his life-_both _their lives. He couldn't have done this to Sammy...he would've known- wouldn't he?

He felt Sam shift under him, and moved his arms so he could have a little space. Sam surfaced from Dean's neck with red eyes, tears still leaking from the corners.

'I-I'm sorry Dean' he mumbled. Dean gave him a look and pulled their foreheads together.

'Hey...hey...you got nothing to apologise for-nothing.' He said firmly, looking across at Sam.

His brother nodded weakly and closed his eyes, tears now falling unchecked onto both their laps.

After a few more minutes, Sam took his head off his brothers and wiped his eyes.

Thoughts that he didn't know he had came back, memories he was unaware of had resurfaced, now scratching at the forefront of his mind.

The suppressed memory had come like a hammer blow, tearing him apart inside. He didn't know what to think, how to feel.

He knew there was more, but he was afraid to go looking.

'Sam?' he heard Dean softly call. He looked up to see his brother stood in front of him, a comforting look on his face.

'I don't know what to say...how did I forget this?' he said, hiccoughing through fresh tears.

'I guess you just suppressed it, and now it's out-we can start to deal.' Said Dean, sitting next to him.

'We?' Sam questioned.

'Well, yeah- you don't think your gonna deal with this all by yourself? Sam you can't – you need me!' Dean said.

Sam looked at his brother in admiration, and smiled at him, before sighing, 'yeah, I do'.

Dean put an arm around him again, and Sam moulded into the shape of his chest, resting his head against his shoulder, his mind really elsewhere, searching into the misty abyss of his mind, even though he was afraid of what he might find.

After a while, Dean looked down to check on him, and found with a mix of concern and humour that Sam had fallen asleep on him; he was sniffling and snoring slightly.

'ah Sammy...' he muttered, before gently moving Sam off him, and manoeuvring him under the bed covers, making sure he was well covered with blanket.

'Mghmmm...Dean...' Sam snuffled, unconscious fingers reaching to find his brother.

Dean fought back a small chuckle and allowed himself to be caught by his wavering brother.

'It's okay Sam...I gotcha...no one's gonna hurt you now...' he whispered, graining as he crept into the bed beside his brother, pulling Sam close once again.

Sam put his head on his shoulder and stayed there, one hand curled around Dean's sleeve, the other lying by his side.

Dean laid awake, keeping watch, making sure Sam was ok. He knew there would be nightmares, if not tonight, then very soon.

All he could do was watch and be there for him when they finally hit.

Sarah had now gone...there was only the two of them in the house.

Tomorrow, if Sam was able to, they would get to the bottom of this mystery once and for all.

**I hope you enjoyed Dean comforting Sam!**

**Next chapter...the boys discover how little Sam was able to appear to them, and Sam has to deal with his troubles. Expect angst!**

**Thank you for reading, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Sam woke first early the next morning, jolted out of his slumber by the harsh cry of a child. He sat rod-straight, knocking Dean's arm off his chest as he did.

Making sure his brother was still asleep, he gently moved off the bed and walked to the window, opening the curtains. The sky was cloudy, so there was no moon or stars, just darkness.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly.

He turned swiftly when he heard the large clock on the wall begin to chime, the dull, deep sounds bouncing around the rooms.

All at once, the chimed propelled his mind back...

'_Dean...let's go out and play!' Sam smiled as he eagerly finished his breakfast. It was a lovely day outside, with the sun shining, the big tree outside the house looked so inviting..._

'_yeah ok Sam-let's go play!' grinned Dean, and he took his brother's hand and made to lead him outside._

'_I'm afraid Sammy can't go outside today' Edgar Smith's deep voice cam from behind them like a stagnant smell._

_Sam turned questioningly towards him. 'why not sir?' he asked, remembering his manners at the very last moment._

'_because...you have a fever, and going outside will only make it worse' Edgar bent down to Sam's level and put the back of his hand against Sam's cool forehead. He then drew it back sharply, throwing his hand around._

'_ooh oooh! Wow your hot boy- you better stay inside, you can go back out when you feel better' he said, holding Sam's shoulder tightly._

'_but I feel fine now!' Sam argued, quite bravely he thought, but he knew it was going to be useless._

'_I wont hear anymore. Sam, your staying inside with me. Dean, you can go out to play, you can go fetch the other boys if you like' he smiled, and cuffed Dean gently round the ear._

'_off you go now lad...dont worry-Sam will be fine with me...off you go now'_

_Dean looked across at his little brother and shrugged his shoulders. He knew nothing of fevers and illneses...but strange...sam didn't seem ill to him..._

'_go now!' barked Edgar, then his face relaxed into a smile._

'_please...do as your told...'he said, Dean nodded quickly, not wanting to upset Mr Smith, and bounded out the door, casting one last glance at his brother as he passed through the door._

_As soon as Dean was out the way, Mr Smith grabbed Sam by his shoulder and dragged him into the living room, where he threw the little boy onto the floor._

_Sam fell with a winded cry onto a pile of dirt and sand. The room normally had a fine covering of something over it, due to the fact the room ran off the front door, where there was a gravel path, and the brother's liked to carry it into the living room and make castles with it._

'_you are a dirty, nasty little boy! Look what you've done to the floor!' Edgar yelled in his face._

_Sam shrunk further into the dirt, afraid of the man who was leaning down at him._

_Edgar pulled Sam up by a tuft of his hair and set him up straight, watching as Sam cried out in pain._

'_Now, you are to clean up this mess NOW!' he said forcefully, throwing Sam back down and dumping a dustpan and brush at his feet._

_Sam picked it up with a small cry and began to clear up the mess._

'_good boy...'Edgar said, before walking out the room._

'_such as good boy...'_

Sam awoke from his memory with a gasp. He realised he was now sitting on the floor, away from the window.

'Sam?' he heard Dean utter his name, but he couldn't orientate himself, couldn't fathom out where he was.

'hey...whatcha doing down there?' asked Dean, holding Sam under the arms and pulling him up, leading him to the bed.

'i-I was remembering...' Sam said, looking into the distance.

Dean stood still and regarded his brother with concern, 'you wanna tell me?' he asked gently.

For a moment Sam thought of saying no, he thought of saving his brother from the memories, but he needed to tell _someone_...

'yeah' he nodded, and began to recount his tale.

* * *

Later that afternoon, when Sam had stopped crying, and Dean had stopped shaking with pure anger, Dean went outside to call Bobby. They needed to know how to get rid of little Sam, and most of all, they needed to know why he was here in the first place.

'hey Bobby, I need some advice...' Dean intended to skirt round the reason he was calling; he didn't want Bobby to know what Sam had been through.

'yeah...there's this spirit, but it's the spirit of someone who's still alive'

'still alive? That's not possible ya idjit-that's why their called ghosts...usually means their dead'

'yeah I know that Derek...but humour me...why would that happen?' asked Dean.

'well, the only cases I know of when a spirit of someone who is still alive haunts a place is when-well, it's very rare, mostly unheard of..'

'Bobby! Please...quickly, please' asked Dean, looking to see if Sam was here, but he must still be in the room.

'well, it only happens when someone has been through a traumatic event, such as, oh I don't know, abuse, or witnessing something horrific. Their soul get's imprinted on the place, and it makes a spirit. The spirit can stay there for as long as it likes, but it usually never leaves, as they are still tied to a specific place for whatever reason. Why do you ask?' asked Bobby.

'and how do you get rid of one of these spirits?' asked Dean, bypassing the question.

Bobby sighed. 'well, usually the person whose spirit it is has to go back to the place where the trauma happened, confront their past, then try to forgive what happened to them'

'forgive? You can't be serious...' Dean trailed off, a hand pressed to his forhead.

No way in hell Sam was going to forgive that son of a bitch.

'Dean? You still there?'

'what? Oh, yeah-thanks Bobby' Dean signed off, before making his way back to the house.

He knew there wasn't a chance Sam would forgive Edgar Smith, but he needed to be told.

They had to try.

**I hope you enjoyed my explanation of little Dean.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

Dean walked up the stairs that led to their room, making his way slowly to talk to his brother.

Sam was sitting on the bed, staring into space with a vacant expression on his face. As he saw Dean come in through the door, he stood up and looked at him.

'Well? What did Bobby say?' he asked, searching his brother's eyes for some good news.

'You better sit down Sammy...'Dean motioned for Sam to sit back down, but Sam remained stood.

'No, I want to stand-now tell me' he said, not willing to play games.

'Ok...well, I called Bobby, and he said that, well, the reason, uh...' Dean didn't quite know how to say it. 'Well, the reason little you is here, is because- you went through something really bad, something so traumatic that your soul split, and it imprinted here in the house.'

He looked across at Sam, who contrary to what he said before, walked over to the bed and sunk onto it, head in his hands.

'Did-did he say how to get rid of it?' he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

'Yeah...Bobby says that the only way to get rid of one of these spirits is for the person to forgive what happened to them in the present day'. Dean explained.

Sam looked up sharply, tears springing to his eyes as he stood up.

'No. I'll never do that!' he said forcefully, eyes shining with hatred as he remembered Edgar Smith's sneering face, the force of his fist as it hit his face...

'I know Sammy...I know...but it's the only way' said Dean, reaching out to comfort Sam, but Sam moved away.

'I can't forgive him...I can't...' he muttered as he made for the door. He walked through it, closing it with a snap.

Dean watched the door close, his heart breaking just that little bit more as he heard Sam running down the stairs and slamming the front door.

After a while, Dean went out looking for Sam; it had started raining hard, and Dean realised with a jolt that Sam hadn't taken a coat with him when he went out.

He looked across the street to a small green park, and with a slight thrill of relief he found Sam standing to the side, the rain just pouring down onto him as he stood.

'Sam!' Dean yelled, running over to stand next to him. Sam jumped slightly as Dean put an arm round him. He looked at him, rain running down his face, his hair sodden as he shook it.

'Hey...you'll catch your death if you stay out here' Dean said, rubbing his brother's arm.

'I don't care...it wont matter to me...' sighed Sam, tears mingling with the rain as he looked down, not willing to make eye contact with his brother.

'Don't talk like that! Come on, it'll matter to me-you don't wanna leave little old me all alone now, do ya?' smiled Dean, hoping to make Sam smile.

Sam managed a weak half smile, before it turned back into a frown.

'That man ruined my childhood- and I forgot. How much more is there to remember? How much more can I take?' he asked, this time looking at Dean, who found tears of his own running down his face.

'I don't Sammy- but I'm with you all the way...I promise!' he choked, watching as Sam gave a brave smile.

'Now 'c'mere...' he said, holding out his arms. Giving his brother a juddered laugh, he melted into his brother's arms, Dean holding him close against his chest, resting his head against his shoulder.

There they stayed, in the pouring rain, with their arms around each other, each holding their personal battles in their minds, forever united in their bond.

A few minutes later, they broke apart, both soaked to the bone, but each felt better for the hug.

'You wanna come back in?' asked Dean, motioning the house. Sam hesitated for a second, then nodded, 'yeah ok'

'Right, let's go-I'll make cocoa!' grinned Dean, before putting an arm around his brother and guiding him toward the house.

As Sam looked up at the house, he knew that he was going to have to face his demons before long, but he still didn't know whether he could forgive Edgar Smith, but he had to do something, for his own sake.

**Will Sam be able to forgive Edgar? Will he be able to forgive and forget?**

**Find out in the next chapter!**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	8. Chapter 8

Sam opened the door to the house and stepped inside, feeling warmth that felt wrong against his cold skin. He rubbed his arms and looked around with new eyes, noticing things about his past here that tied in with what had happened to him.

The food cupboard, with the mark of the thick lock that Edgar had screwed on their to make sure he didn't steal food, even though Dean got full access

The space under the stairs, where Edgar used to make him kneel with his forehead pressed to the wood, counting back from a hundred, even though he could barely count to ten.

All these harmless, innocent things that would be in anyone's childhood memories-but it made Sam sick to the stomach thinking about it.

Edgar Smith had tarnished these memories...and he didn't even know _why_.

How could he be expected to forgive him, if he didn't know the reason behind it? Now he was dead, and he would never know. That made forgiving damn near impossible.

'Sammy?' Dean's voice made him jump slightly.

'It's ok...its me!' Dean said, patting Sam's shoulder, 'drink?' he offered, walking to the kitchen.

'Coffee please' Sam muttered, sinking in to one of the chairs with a tired groan.

'How much sleep did 'ya get last night?' asked Dean in concern.

Sam ran a hand down his face, 'about an hour. I was thinking' he mused, ruffling his hair.

'Yeah, you wanna be careful of that!' Dean joked, flicking the kettle on.

'Tell me about it!' Sam said, sighing as he looked around.

Just as he was about to speak to his brother again, the lights' started to flicker on and off, static electricity making crackling sounds in the wires.

'What time is it?' Dean asked, looking outside and noting that, even though it was cloudy and raining, it wasn't night time just yet.

'About four thirty' said Sam, looking up from his watch.

'Huh' Dean nodded, looking round as the lights flickered again.

'Dean! What if it's...me-I don't wanna see the spirit again!' Sam said, panic rising at the thought.

'Hey, its ok Sammy-I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you!' Dean promised, before walking over to Sam to protect him.

Suddenly, there was the sound of soft crying coming from upstairs, followed by the sound of a child coming down the wooden stairs.

Sam stiffened, holding onto Dean's sleeve, 'it's ok...' Dean reassured him, rubbing his back as he looked to the door, which led straight out from the stairs.

An icy cold chill flew up to meet them, sending shivers down both boys spines, creating goose bumps down their already chilled skin.

Seconds after, the door opened, and the small form of seven year old Sam came in, crying and wiping his eyes.

'Dean! Help me...tell him to stop!' he wailed, looking straight at the grown up Dean, who was standing, looking in shock at young boy in front of him.

'Why won't you help me?' he asked, tears falling down his already streaked face.

'I-I can't Sammy...I'm sorry...' he whispered, tears falling down his own face as he watched little Sam's face crumple and he dissolved into more tears.

Little Sam walked over to Dean and held out his arms, 'can I have a hug?' he asked, putting an arm through Dean's chest as he tried to put his arms around him.

Dean looked up at the grown up Sam, choking back the tears, to find his brother was crying also.

He looked back at little Sam and attempted to put his arms around him, but all he could feel was slightly warm air; his arms kept going through his body, falling through the spirit of his little brother.

'I can't...I'm so sorry!' he cried, wiping the tears away.

Little Sam looked at his imploringly, and then stiffened, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

'He's coming! Please Dean! Tell him not to!' he cried, hands reaching to grab Dean's, but of course they fell through, and he looked at them with a gasp.

'Oh please...please...don't...' he cried, before he dissipated from view, fading into the background with a last cry.

With a choked back sob, Dean stood up and put a shaky hand on Sam's shoulder, which leant the side of his face against it, tears soaking the back of his hand.

'Right-this is ending- I mean it!' he said with steely determination.

Sam looked up at him, slightly panicked, 'I-I can't Dean...I can't forgive him'

'You have to try Sammy' he said gently, 'you can do this, we can stop the little you hurting if you'll let me help' he didn't like hurting Sam's feelings by putting this so bluntly, but It was the only way.

Sam nodded, knowing that his big brother was right, as per usual.

'Ok, I'll try...no promises though' he warned. He didn't even know if he was strong enough.

'That's what I like to here Sammy' Dean smiled, rubbing his back.

'And I'll be with you all the way.'

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Please review, I would love to know what you thought!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Sam paced the living room of Sarah Smith's childhood home, arms crossed, deep in thought.

In his mind, he was wondering how on earth he was going to forgive the man who had tarnished his childhood memories.

'Sam?' Dean's soft voice penetrated his thoughts. He stopped and gave him a weak smile, not wanting to show how messed up he felt inside.

'I know how messed up your feeling, but its ok. I'm here with you, we can do this' he said encouragingly, looking in what he hoped was a cheerful way at his brother.

Sam nodded, knowing he was right, and sighed, sitting on a low sofa in the middle of the room.

'How can I forgive him Dean? I don't even know why he did it- how can I forgive that?' he asked.

Dean groaned as he sat down next to him. 'I did some digging about the Smith's. Apparently they were going trough a rough patch, Edgar was beating his wife, and she was gonna get a divorce, but it never happened' he said, looking at his brother, slightly wary of his reaction.

'Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to feel sorry for the bastard? Dean, he beat me till I couldn't stand up! He wouldn't give me food till I did chores, chores that even you didn't have to do!' Sam said, looking incredulously at his brother.

'I know Sammy...I know...I'm sorry' Dean murmured. How did he not know what was happening? How could he have been so blind?

'No Dean! Don't you apologise, you did nothing wrong-nothing!' Sam said forcefully, sitting up and looking his brother straight in the eye. 'You where what, eleven, twelve when this happened? How the hell could you have known? Don't blame yourself Dean. It's not you who needs forgiving-it's Edgar' he said.

A tear snaked its way down Dean's cheek. 'Hey...what 'ya crying for?' Sam smiled, feeling emotion lodge in his own throat.

'Since-since when did you get so grown up?' Dean whispered, 'you're not a kid anymore, are you?' he added, smiling slightly sadly at his brother.

'Dean...' Sam started, but Dean cut across him.

'Although...you'll always be a kid to me, you great lump!' Dean choked, smiling tearfully at his brother.

'Yeah...I know...' Sam smiled.

Dean talking like this always scared him a little; normally he was always bottling up his feelings, not showing an inch of emotion. It was kind of good, but strange, to see him let off steam.

'Well, now you've turned me into a gibbering wreck!' Dean chuckled thickly, wiping his face. He smiled at Sam.

'Its' only two words Sammy, that's all you need to say' he said.

'Yeah, but I don't know if I can-but I know that the littler me won't be able to rest until I do, so I have to try.' He smiled bravely.

Dean patted his leg, 'I'm always by your side dude, I'll help you through it' he promised.

'Thanks' Sam whispered. He looked up at the ceiling sighing.

'Did Bobby say how to go about forgiving the person that did this?'

'Yeah he did, he said we have to either go to the person's grave, or stand over their urn, and talk directly to the deceased.' Dean spat the word out with barely concealed venom.

'What state is Edgar in?' Sam asked, shuddering slightly at the mention of his name.

'I found that out too-he buried out in the local cemetery, we could go now, if you want?' Dean looked warily at Sam, wondering whether he's have the strength. He would do anything in the world to be the one to do it, instead of Sam, but he knew it wouldn't work unless it was the living part of the spirit.

Sam took a deep breath. 'Ok. Let's do it'

* * *

A fell wind whipped around the brothers as they made their way through the dark cemetery, slight spots of rain still falling on their heads, making them colder.

'Well, at least it's not raining so hard now!' Dean joked, tucking the shovel under his arm a bit more. Bobby said that it wouldn't be necessary to salt and burn the body, but Dean didn't care-Sam may be forgiving him, but he was going to make damn sure he had some punishment after.

'This is it Dean' Sam stopped, pointing at a simple granite headstone, tucked away by some trees.

Sam bent down to read the description etched on the stone.

_Here lies Edgar Smith_

_Loving husband, doting father, pillar of the community._

_We will never forget the love you've shown, lest we meet again._

_RIP_

Dean whistled lowly, thinking that the epitaph revealed the understatement of the century.

'Let's get this over with' he muttered. Sam looked at him, sighing as he did.

'What?' asked Dean, frowning slightly.

'I-I think, this might work better if it was only me standing here' he said, knowing he wasn't going to like his brother's reaction.

Dean, however, seemed to understand. 'Oh of course, yeah, ok- you probably want some space, yeah, I'll go wait in the car' he said.

'You gonna be alright?' he asked as he dropped the shovel on the floor, he was coming back to it later.

'Yeah, I'll see you in a bit' said Sam. Dean nodded, patted him on the arm and walked away, looking back every now and again to see if he was ok.

Once Sam was sure Dean was out of earshot, he looked down at the grave.

'Well, what can I say?' he started, really struggling to think of something to say. He knew the two words he was _supposed_ to say, but he felt Edgar-and himself- needed to hear an explanation.

'you...ruined my childhood, it's fair to say-you beat me, hurt me, gave me nightmares, hell, I didn't even know about it till I came to the house! And you know the real kicker? I don't even know why!

What did I ever do to you? I was seven, for god's sake! I didn't deserve what you did to me! There was no reason for it, and now there's a spirit in the house, a part of me that never got over it!' Sam wiped the tears now falling freely down his face with a shaking hand. It felt good, to finally get this out in the open.

'When I found out the only way to get rid of the spirit in the house was to forgive you, I didn't want to believe it. I mean, how the hell could I forgive you, for what you did?' he asked, looking down at the grave, feeling sadness and anger building up inside him.

'but then I thought- you've got a beautiful daughter in Sarah, you helped in the community- so you can't be all bad, so why'd you hurt me?

Life is too short for grudges. Especially grudges against people who are dead. You might not be here now, but your legacy, your memories-the good and the bad- still linger, and no one can stop that! I can't hold grudges about people I hardly remember, it would tear me apart inside.' Sam felt tears freeze against his face, like cold water being flicked into it.

'I'm not saying I forgive you because I want you to rest in peace-I'm saying I forgive you so I can live in peace, and my spirit can go to the light, knowing that I'm safe now, that no one is going to hurt me like you did again.' Sam stopped for breath, looking round, hoping to spot Dean, but he was no where to be seen.

'I-I...I forgive you.' He said, the last of his tears slipping down his cheeks.

There was a strange noise, and a strange green light hovered over the sunken mound of Edgar Smith's grave, before it landed on the grass like a feather, eventually soaking into the earth, until nothing remained.

Sam let out a shaky breath, hoping that this was the end.

* * *

'Sammy! Are you ok?' Dean jumped slightly as Sam opened the door and sat inside the Impala, eyes still red and puffy from crying.

'Yeah, I'm fine' he whispered.

'How-how'd it go?' Dean asked tentatively.

'I think it worked...I hope...' Sam smiled weakly at him.

'That's my boy' Dean patted Sam's leg, before starting the engine of the Impala, turning the car round and heading back to the house.

'How do we tell, though?' mused Sam, looking at his brother from the passenger seat.

'I guess we just wait to see if your mini-me shows up. If not, it worked.' Dean worked out, giving his brother a hopeful sideways glance. He hoped to god that it had worked, that Sam wouldn't have to go through forgiving that bastard.

'Hey, what happened to my shovel?' he asked nonchalantly, eyes on the road ahead.

'I put it in the trunk-why?' said Sam, looking at his brother.

'well, I was gonna drop you off at the house to wait to see if the spirit showed up, then I thought I'd go for a little ride, I won't be long' Dean smiled across at his brother, who sighed and rolled his eyes.

'Come on Dean, you don't need to salt and burn him! Bobby said so' he said.

'Yeah, well, you've got your forgiving methods-I got mine. I can only feel happier when he's a pile of ash at the bottom of a pit.' He said forcefully.

'Ok, ok...just-drop me off at the house first' he sighed, knowing there was no reasoning with him with things like this.

* * *

As Dean rumbled away in the Impala again, Sam turned towards the dark house, taking a deep breath before he turned the key and let himself inside.

Looking around the empty, threadbare house, he know felt strangely calmer, but not happier.

He didn't feel a lurch of nausea as he eyes the space under the stairs, or the food cupboard; just a small sense of loss, sadness and peace.

He turned as he heard small footsteps coming down the stairs, for a moment terrified of what he might see.

The small figure of his seven year old self smiled up at him, before looking around with happiness apparent on his face.

'He's gone! Mr Smith's gone!' he gabbled, smiling broadly at him.

Sam smiled too, nodding. 'Yes, he's gone- you can go now Sam...You're ok to go!' he smiled, watching his littler self's face shine with appreciation. He walked forwards, and even though he had learned he couldn't touch anything, he bent his head down, until the tip of his little nose went through Sam's.

'Thank you' he whispered.

Sam dearly wanted to hold the little boy in front of him, to rock him until he felt better, to further help him to understand he was safe.

'Your welcome...your welcome' he choked, a fresh tear running down his face.

Little Sam nodded, before turning and walking back to the stairs. As he climbed them, he became fainter and fainter before he eventually dissipated from sight, leaving only the echo of a happy child-like chuckle in his wake.

Sam breathed out slowly, thankful that it was now over.

Now he would wait for Dean, and tell him about what had happened, explain to him that it was now truly over, that they could get on with their lives.

They would walk out this house with the certainty that they would never return, leaving the memories, the bad thoughts, everything.

They would make their own memories as they went, ones to replace the memories that had been tarnished here.

How? Sam didn't have a clue, but he knew the he and Dean would find a way.

Life is too short for grudges, and they knew how important life was, how wonderful it could be.

They only needed to look in the right places.

**The end.**

**I hope you enjoyed this last chapter, and the story as a whole- I really enjoyed writing it!**

**Thank you for all the reviews submitted to this story, I would love it if you guys all reviewed just **_**one **_**last time, to tell me how you thought it went!**

**Thank you for reading!**


End file.
